Underneath the Night Sky
by visuallyincoherent
Summary: In which Ron wishes to confess and finds love in uncertain places. DracoRon. RonOOC.
1. Part One

Title: Wednesday Underneath the Moonlit Sky

Author: Z. Quentin

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Warn, characters are not own by me.

The room was hot steamed with summer's night air breathing on us like dragon's breath. I loosened my tie allowing it to hang limply against my exposed skin. I was shaking; my lips drawn to a slight pant.

_Wednesday underneath the moonlit sky Draco tangled Ron in a mess of limbs They held each other breathing We held together; our secret Ron touched Draco's lips Smiling at him_

Drops of bourbon spilled over my glass as I lifted it to my chapped lips. My throat was burning hungrily as I swallowed the drink. I tilted the bottle filling another glass letting the table collect more of the lost bourbon. My eyes were away from Cecile's trying to ignore her loathing eyes.

Her cold fingers roughly grabbed my arm and forcefully pulled it towards her. She wanted my attention. She wanted to know things I

_Never leave me. No, I won't. Wednesday underneath the moonlit sky, the wind was caressing the naked skin._

could not confess just yet. I pretended not to feel the sting of her sharp fingernails tightening around my wrist. My gaze instead lingered on the drink I was nursing; thoughts of what I want whirled in my head. I wanted to race out of the hot apartment and hide. I wanted her to vanish from my life. I wanted my problems to disappear rather then meet her eyes.

"Look at me. God damn it, Ron. _Look_ up at me."

And I did, of course, after a moment of hesitation.

_Ron looked up at the midnight sky searching. I am not like you, he breathed and Draco could not contain the laughter hidden in the corpses of time. Hell you aren't. _

And what I saw was like a vision sent from her God condemning my actions. Her grey orbs glowed from her pale drawn face hinting at a sort of madness in her. Cecile's silky blonde hair pulled back into a loose pony tail set a halo around her head. Her face twisted into a look of disgust. My eyes squinted at the intensity of her abhorrence.

"Right. Looking." I let out a huff of air. Her face faded in and out. The heat burning into my skull. I was fading... _I can hear you. The vibrations of your laughter, he said his head nestled in Draco's chest. What the fuck are you on? No, listen. It tickles. _

I rubbed my wrist missing the coolness of her touch, but was glad at the same time that her touch was gone. Gone like our love. She tilted her head and sighed. Her glare bore a hole through my sweaty forehead. I bit my lips as her lips started to move forming words I could barely hear. The loss of senses overwhelmed me. My ears strained to catch what she was saying, but could only make out a few at a time.

"...sorry doesn't..." My hands flew to my arms. The temperature was drastically changing from the scorching heat to an unbearable cold.

"..pregnant and LEAVING ME WITH..." I was trying to stay awake. My vision blurring. Her hair radiating from her head just like a halo. She was an angel telling me my sins could not be forgiven. _Draco pushed Ron over and they rolled in the soft grass. I won't go. Don't you go away. Ron bit his lip, No I won't, but Cecile. And he kissed him forcefully tasting the freshness of Draco's mouth, clean as a cat_

"...that man.." Her face grew more twisted. I couldn't figure out where her face started and where it ended.

"...how could..." Evaporating. Evaporating. Evaporating. Everything was evaporating.

"...A MAN? WHY?" Her voice was growing louder and louder beating against my skull shoving my sins into my face.

"I..." My fingers tightened to a fist and I swallowed hard wishing this would end, wishing it all away.

"..piece of..." And then noise slowly started to fade again. My vision growing worse and worse each second that passed.

"..fu..." And then all I could hear was the clatter of my chair falling and I could see nothing. I became nothing. Nothing. Nothing.


	2. Part Two

Title: Part Two: Six Years to Wisdom I

Author: Zilpha Q.

Rating: T

Beta: arabesqueno2 at lj.

Notes: This is an AU. No magic. They are Young here, the previous showed them in their mid-twenties.

_They groped in the dark for each others' warmth, hands slipping graciously together. They will never understand, will they Draco?_ asked the wide-eye boy. _No,_ the blond answered _No._

It was at the start of the age six where Draco Malfoy's future became clear and undiluted.

They sky was clear; the morning of his sixth birthday was white and frozen. No one would have predicted the dark realizations that were to happen soon. Draco had awoken with a fear stuck to his gut, and his small form was filled with a sense of a dark happening, huge and ominous.

His father loomed in the corner of his room.

"Draco," his voice, soft, caused shivers of more fear trailing down his spine. Lucius was indeed a powerful man, yet he still was Father and Father must be obeyed no matter the result. "Your studies are to commence, son. Young as you may seem, you are, indeed, growing. This is the perfect opportunity for learning, not for silly games. There will be no more antics, my dear boy. You will not like the punishment I will be forced to give, if you survive it, of course. Belief is not necessary, but fact. My tolerance for horseplay is nonexistent. Remember that."

"Yes, sir." Draco breathed out.

"Now, a tutor has already been hired ready to answer at my beck and call. Come down, son, for breakfast and you will meet him. You'll find your presents down there as well. Enjoy them, they are not toys."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I expect to see you down there in ten minutes." He turned and walked out of Draco's room. His footsteps, sharp, pierced out of the door and began to diminish as the door was shut.

Draco sat still on his warm bed. The cold air wrapped thin fingers on his skinny frame sending outbreaks of shivers. Nine minutes remained. He couldn't to be late to his birthday breakfast especially with guests. His form is racked with more shivers as he dreaded what was to come if his presence was delayed. He pushed himself of his soft bed and quickly dressed in his best robes, thoroughly combing his pale slivers of hair. He bit his lip. Three minutes had only remained.

Draco Malfoy walked slowly down the stairs; his insides churning, fluttering in flights of fear. His small frame was nearly assaulted by trembles, but he held his chin high. Draco managed to hold himself together, each step calm and unnerving, but with only little resolve. He looked straight ahead, his head uncommonly straight and unmoving as his eyes darted across the dining area. He feared that it would be one of Father's nasty little goons. He feared even more so of Riddle, feared of his mean smirk and nasty look in his eyes.

A breath of relief escaped his lips. i>Please Father, Don't you- /i>

"Draco, so good to see you have finally graced us with your presence."

Draco's lips barely lifted into a smile. He walked closer to the rather large ornate table filled with plates and dishes at one end and presents at the other end. He lifted his eyes back to the new tutor. His hair was a hideous color red, eyeglasses sliding down his nose, freckled face looking stern with his lips in a tight frown.

_A fabled Weasley_.

The young Malfoy took a step forward and quickly slipped into his usual spot at the dining table.

"This is Percy, and from his disgusting hair it is obvious he is of the Weasley clan." Lucius Malfoy introduced snidely. "He is not to be treated as equal to you, my dear boy. Neither is his brother, Ron, who will take part in your education as a sparring partner. I had to present the opportunity of showing you who are the lesser creatures of society."

Draco caught a look of distaste cross Percy's face. It quickly dissolved back into a stern unwavering face. He wondered why the brother was not here to share his birthday breakfast. His father probably thought Ron was not good enough to have his face shown just yet.

Draco wished for someone his age. He hated the loneliness that came with living with his father.

_Ron,_ the blond boy whispered. _I wish for forever. Forever away from- don't_, with clenched teeth, the red head spoke, _don't say it._

Breakfast went by quickly, as well as the presents. They were as promised not toys. He received series of books on history, strategy, mathematics, etc. as well as blank books, parchment, quills, new clothing and a deadly revolver that lay buried underneath a wooden plank on the floor. Draco, though, was in awe for the most impressive present he held in his hand. A long sword. The sword blazing in his hand was not a toy; he knew it. He knew it so well, but it was beautiful. The blade was long, silver blade etched with a golden dragon on the handle; the gleam was exciting enough for the young boy.

He was not allowed to practice with it yet, but with a blunt wooden sword that he eyed cautiously at.

He stood, gently placing the sword in his chest before slowly picking up the wooden toy with his fingers. He put it away, transcending his posture from one of excitement to one of ease and apathy.

He tore out of his room. His feet were light on the ground; his heart clenched in fear his father would hear his quick steps. Running in the house was forbidden, but he was helpless against his need to explore swordplay.

Draco was outside, his father did not see, relief filled his chest and he could breathe.

But breath became nonexistent when a young boy with beautiful red hair stared at him openly with surprise.

_Ron. _


End file.
